


the air in my lungs (knows only your name)

by denilmo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Biting, M/M, Marking, NSFW Ignoct Week 2018, Prompt: desperation, self indulgent poetic smut, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denilmo/pseuds/denilmo
Summary: Ignis shudders as Noctis enters him, fills the emptiness he is both cause of and cure. No one has ever loved him the way that Noctis does; it is all encompassing and feverish, the fire that would claim his life and the ashes that birth him anew.





	the air in my lungs (knows only your name)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the NSFW Ignoct week (2018) at tumblr.  
> Prompt: Desperation [with a bit of biting/marking thrown in cause I love that stuff]  
> I hope you enjoy and please comment if you do. My muse is fueled by it.
> 
> Not beta read, all mistakes are mine | We die like writers

Fingers fumble in the dark - with buttons and zippers, with locks of hair - trailing down cheeks and getting caught in teeth. Their steps are quick, careless, bumping into chair legs and the corners of tables that are sure to leave bruises come morning, but neither care, not when they’re going to leave their own marks upon each other.

Ignis pulls Noctis’ lower lip between his teeth, moaning against it as his liege’s hands find his chest, as those previously clumsy fingers pinch and roll nipples between them. “Noct,” he whispers, no more than a breath, a single syllable that takes up the space of a heartbeat, loud in his own ears.

Then Noctis is lowering himself, kissing straight down the path between the open placket of his shirt - once pristine, all starched and pressed much like how his Advisor presents himself to others, now so alluring, wrinkled and perfectly imperfect much like how he presents himself to Noctis and Noctis alone. His hands push at the open fly, slipping inside and curling around his hips. He pushes his knuckles against the fabric of his slacks, guides them down toned thighs as his breath soaks through the barrier of his boxer briefs, rolls over his hardened cock and the damp spot that alerts him to just how aroused Ignis is. 

Ignis looks down, sight adjusting in the still darkness of His Highness’ bedroom and finds what little light there is reflected in the those dark depths staring back up at him. The glisten of slick muscle flashes before it presses to the tip of his cock; the warmth of it seeps through his underwear and makes his breath quake. He can only imagine what a pretty picture Noctis makes on his knees, cheeks surely flushed, lips darkened by their kissing, and those eyes so deep and pure glazed over with lust and hunger - and gods Ignis would be devoured, would ask for it, beg if that was what Noctis wanted to hear.

Thankfully, Noctis doesn’t need to hear anything, not tonight. He pushes Ignis onto the bed, still kneeling between his legs, and he pushes his thighs apart as he leans in and kisses over a knee. Ignis can feel the twitch of his lips as he smiles, dragging his mouth higher up the inside of his thigh, tongue leaving a slick trail behind. His long fingers curl into inky black tresses, his head falling back with a soft sigh as kisses grow more firm. Noctis’ nose pushes up the silky material of his boxer briefs as his fingers dance slowly up the bulge in the center; they curl around the rigid length and stroke him through the garment. 

Ignis can only focus on the friction, the heat of his lips teasing ever closer, and he’s suddenly very glad that breathing is involuntary. Then there’s pain, it’s sharp and radiates from high on his inner thigh, and his fingers tighten in Noct’s hair, a growl splitting his lips. Out of instinct his legs try to close, but Noctis is wedged between them and he squeezes on his cock as he moans - the sound reverberating through him like an aftershock - and Ignis trembles.

Warmth floods him as he feels Noctis’ tongue lave over the mark, trace the indention of his teeth. The gentle attention has intensely hot pleasure blooming outward, and after an evening full of foreplay - the sound of his name falling from his prince’s lips, the lingering touches to his back or shoulder, those eyes dancing, promising him exactly what was to come -  he can't wait any longer. 

“Noct...” His name comes out like a plea, a warning.

“All you've said since entering my room is my name. Let's see if we can keep that going,” he quips, smug smirk in place that Ignis can only feel and sense before the prince leans and retrieves the lube. 

Truth be told, when it comes to Noctis and these vulnerable moments, he’s blind to everything except for what he can feel, what Noctis makes him feel.The bed sheets are cool against him as he lies back and he tilts his hips, letting Noct pull his boxer briefs just shy of them. His heavy breaths are the melody to which the lube opens, and Noctis spreads it across his fingers. 

Ignis can feel those eyes on him; they're hot, scalding him like an iron, and he squirms under the gaze as fingertips brush teasingly up and down the sliver of skin between toned cheeks. He rocks against the fingers, biting back a frustrated moan as Noctis pulls them away instead. Another click, and then the fingers return, colder and wetter, and then one is pushing into him and Ignis forgets what the source of his pout was.

There is no gentle prodding or teasing any longer. The single finger thrusts within him, delightfully intrusive, and before Ignis can even think to ask for more, a second finger is squeezing in next to the first. He moans as his eyelids flutter close, as those lips are back on him, nipping at his thighs. The heat of Noctis’ mouth trails higher up and engulfs the head of his cock. 

Ignis lets out a keening moan, hands falling to rest on his head, fingers sinking into the gloriously thick hair of his prince. Electric warmth washes over him again and again, stealing his breath, turning them into sounds that he can barely recognize as his own. Thought abandons him and he’s left with nothing but feeling - warm slick velvet, a softness in contrast to the deep thrusting of digits that twist and scissor within him, each movement with purpose. Heat coils low within him and spreads through his body with every beat of his heart. Desire pulses and thrums through his veins and his pelvis tilts, seeking out more of it. 

Noctis pulls back then - his fingers retreat from the glorious heat of Ignis’ body and he grins as he stands. Moonlight kisses the heaving rise and fall of fair chest and he can’t take his dark gaze from his advisor’s body as he tends to the button and zipper of his slacks. He doesn’t want to tease or hint any longer, he wants to indulge. He craves Ignis in a way that he’s never craved anything or anyone else; beyond the oath and their duties and roles, they’re friends and lovers and Ignis accepts him in his entirety without preamble or conditions. Ignis loves him, wholeheartedly, imperfections and all, and knowing that only makes his own heart swell for him.

Ignis shifts up onto his elbows before sitting up. His hands start to work at the buttons of Noctis’ shirt, taking a moment to appreciate soft skin as it’s exposed. But Noctis surprises him, gripping his shirt and ripping it from his shoulders, the force yanking his hands away as the sleeves catch on elbows. “Off,” he growls.

Ignis says nothing, only feels the burn of his eyes, his command, and hastily follows and attempts to pull his arms free. The buttons on his cuffs are still done up and he grunts as his wrists get snagged. He maneuvers so his arms in front of him and he tries to work them undone, but Noctis, ever impatient, only sighs and reaches down. He grips Ignis’ shirt as he pushes him back onto the bed and shoves his hands up above his head - the sleeves becoming a restraint - body stretched over his, chests touching, all energized heat. He kisses him, grip tightening in the tangled article as he aligns himself.

Noctis’ breath catches as he pushes forward, breaching the ring of muscle, feeling him stretch to accommodate him. He lets loose a breathy moan as Ignis breaks the kiss, head tilting back as he groans and curses, exposing his throat and his vulnerability. Gods, he’s the most beautiful like this, without inhibitions and arching against him, whispering Noct’s name with emotion deeper than the ocean, more vast than the sky - all compressed into a single sound that a mere mortal shouldn’t be able to possess. 

Ignis shudders as Noctis enters him, fills the emptiness he is both cause of and cure. No one has ever loved him the way that Noctis does; it is all encompassing and feverish, the fire that would claim his life and the ashes that birth him anew. He lifts his legs, ankles dragging up the backs of his thighs, pressing against him and urging him closer, deeper, because Astrals he can never get enough of him. When Noctis rolls his hips he can only hiss in pleasure and softly demand for more.

The prince smirks, eyes intently watching Ignis’ features as he works his hips teasingly slow, in and out, dragging every inch through him over and over again. He takes pleasure in watching his lips part and round, in how they shape his name, tongue darting across them. The gentleness doesn’t last - not tonight, not when they’re both on edge and their lungs fill with the desirous flame of their shared breaths.

Noctis rights himself, his hands slipping to rest flat against the backs of Ignis’ thighs, holding his legs apart (as much as they can be still trapped within his boxer briefs) and up as he thrusts into him harder. His eyes, heavily lidded, rake over every inch he can see of his advisor all the way down to where they are joined. He watches his cock slide in and out of him, hears the punctuating slap of their skin echo against the walls of his chambers. He gently caresses the swell of his sac, rolling his palm over him and squeezing ever so softly even as his hips snap forward hard enough to jostle Ignis’ lean frame.

Ignis’ head twitches to the side, a whimper falling from his lips as Noctis’ hand teases him and the rest of his body takes. Ignis will give and give, and expect nothing in return, but Noct isn’t that selfish. A soft, breathless cry splits his lips as a hand curls around his neglected cock, strokes and twists along the length, and brilliant verdant eyes can no longer remain open. Dual sensations work in tandem, rocket him toward release, and leaves his thighs quivering and his stomach clenching in building anticipation. He huffs and whines, oblivious to how desperate he sounds, how desperate he  _ is _ to feel his lover come undone, to unravel at the seams himself. Noctis has already tugged at that thread; every drive of his hips is only another teasing pull, another stitch come apart and dammit Ignis is ready to burst.

“Noctis…  _ please _ ,” he utters with a shaky breath. 

Noctis moans in response, the hand still at his thigh pressing more firmly, fingertips going white against his skin. “ _ With me _ , Iggy…. Almost…” he promises. 

He’s so close, tiptoeing the edge, wobbling back and forth. Ignis is so perfect - tight, warm, soft, and inviting... forgiving, loving, accepting - everything he never thought would be given to him in such earnest. Ignis gives all of himself so effortlessly that Noctis finds it second nature to reciprocate, something that he never thought he was capable of, or  _ wanted _ to be capable of. Because he knows that emotions are messy; he’s seen what love and loss can do to a person; he sees it in his father when he sighs a little too long, when he would pat him on his shoulder and tell him how much he reminds him of his mother. But Ignis makes him want to do messy and complicated, makes him want to fall in love and realize far too late that he already is.

His fist twists and tightens, focuses on the head of his cock and overwhelms his nerves. Ignis’ lips part and his fingers clench at the wrinkled fabric of his shirt pooled around his hands. Jolts of bliss race along the touch and pool in his belly until it’s blossoming and growing like vines crawling through him, breaking ground to get to light. Ignis’ soft whimpers become heady moans become ardent cries as he begs to come. Never before has the word please sounded so dirty, so enticing to Noctis’ ears.

His hips ram forward of their own volition, erratic and jerky, and everything that has built inside of Noctis can no longer be contained. “Fuck,” he pants, voice cracking, “ _ Ignis _ … come with me.”

Ignis has never been one to deny a request and he certainly isn’t about to start now. The shocking electricity of his orgasm sweeps through him, arcing out from his limbs as he goes taut, Noctis’ name leaving his lips. They come, one right after the other, their diapason of moans lifting through the air.

Noct collapses on top of him, the warmth of Ignis’ release pressed between their bodies, but that can be dealt with later. Right now their bodies still, as time seems to freeze to let them enjoy the afterglow, their breaths and hearts are the only sound, the only movement aside from Ignis bringing his arms down - shirt and all - and wrapping them around his love. Eyes closed, his lips tremble as he cradles Noctis to his chest that burns with each breath, with unsaid words buried in his tissue and etched into his ribs.

Noctis sighs, a deeply sated sound, as he feels Ignis’ long fingers pull through his hair.It’s comforting and it prompts him to say the words that he’s felt but never acknowledged. And it’s late, too late for him to go back now, and he knows if he breathes out the words beating against his lips there will be no salvaging his heart should it ever break. But for all Ignis has given him, it’s his turn to give something first.

He turns his face against the strong chest, kisses the sweat dampened skin, and lifts his eyes. “I love you, Ignis.”

Slowly, the advisor cracks open his eyes and picks up his head to look at him. “I know,” he replies - and he’s always known in some way, like the way butterflies migrate home, like the way the sun always rises in the east, like the way the seasons change, indubitably, without fail. But to  _ hear  _ it from him, to have that confirmation ring in his ears, makes his heart soar and he smiles. “I love you, too, Noctis.”

 


End file.
